England's Dirty Little Secret
by TrograTheAwesome
Summary: England has slept with America when he was drunk. The problem is, he has to go to school and not let anyone know about their dysfunctional relationship. Will someone find out? Will America tell? You will find out!
1. Chapter 1 Realization

England's Dirty Little Secret

England placed his hands on the cold white marble of the bathroom sink. He looked up at himself in the mirror, his hair was a dusty blonde color and his eyes were bright green. He had very thick eyebrows that he never noticed anymore. He was used to them. He was wearing the uniform for the school he attended, which was a blue jacket with a yellow vest and white button up shirt with a tie. His pants were blue with a slight plaid pattern. He wore exactly what the dress code stated. No more, no less. He closed his eyes, trying to get the memory out of his head, of that Saturday. This memory showed him a glass of beer, which he must have drunken more than one of, because the next thing he could remember was waking up cuddling Alfred.

He shivered; his hung-over argument with America rang in his head. "If you tell anyone about this or even hint about what happened… I'll never forgive you!" He shook the memory from his mind. He had school today and if Alfred told anyone, he was as good as dead. Arthur didn't want the word to get out that he was in a relationship with America. He did like him… a lot, but the people at his school were much less than comforting. Especially about things of this nature.

He slung his leather brief case over his shoulder, trying to forget about what had happened, but he couldn't. The memories were getting stronger. He could remember actually having _sex _with America. He thought to himself. _No wonder I'm so sore… _But blushed and attempted to keep his soreness from showing.

He arrived at the school grounds; he looked up at the large castle like structure that was his school building. He was proud to be the head of student council here. It was like being prime minister. This school was much different from others, and Arthur had much more authority than other students. Here they only have teachers for homeroom and core classes. For the rest of the elective classes the Student Council Representatives have to teach. They have to be prepared and have a full lesson plan figured out before the principal approves.

England rushed inside the building, not looking at anyone, as he usually did. He was alone in his isolated island after all. He hardly ever got visitors. Arthur opened his locker, hoping that America would either be absent or just not bother him today… or ever. He closed his locker with a sigh, knowing exactly when all the bells would ring. England started to his Homeroom so he could begin the day.

A hand clutched his shoulder, forcing him to stop walking. He spun around to see who it was, hoping, _praying _that Alfred hadn't told anyone about "it". He sighed seeing France holding onto his shoulder, "What do you want?" He asked his blonde wavy haired brother.


	2. Chapter 2 Theatre

France smirked, "Just wanted to catch you before class." He said with his usual French accent and with a smile, closing his light blue eyes.

England looked confused, "What? You never want to talk." He said quietly, "What's wrong?" He asked as the two started walking towards the Europe homeroom class.

France shrugged, "I don't know, ever since Saturday I've felt like I haven't talked to you in forever." He said simply.

England's eyes grew wide as he looked straight ahead. _Saturday. _That was _the _day. He stopped walking as memories hit him once again. But this time more vivid. His face suddenly became red and he felt his body being shaken. He shook his head, and he snapped back into reality.

France was holding his shoulders and shaking him, "England? Arthur? Are you okay? What's wrong?" He asked looking sincerely worried about his brother.

Arthur sighed, his face slowly coming back to its regular color, "Yeah, I'm fine." He said closing his emerald eyes.

France looked him in the eye, "Are you sure?" He placed the back of his hand on England's forehead. "You feel warm." He said worriedly.

England sighed, "I think I'm fine." He said shoving past his brother into the classroom. The bell rang a few seconds after England was comfortably seated at his desk. The teacher walked up to him with a comforting smile. Her hair was short and brown, she had a slightly chubby build, but was a very nice person. She was also his math teacher.

"Do you have any announcements before I take role?" She asked.

England shook his head, his face staying completely emotionless as he looked at her. She nodded and continued to her desk. After she took role the class was checked for ID's and stayed in the room for fifteen more minutes.

France looked worriedly at England who was sitting at his desk, quietly doodling on notebook paper, "I'm worried about him." He said to Spain.

His Brunette friend followed his eyes to England and sighed, "You should stop worrying about that bastard. He doesn't deserve it~!" He chimed seeming happy. Spain smiled once more and his green eyes were instantly on the Italys.

France sighed, knowing that Spain hated England with a burning passion. He turned to Prussia, his white hair standing out amongst the rest of the countries, "Gilbert, look at England." He said pointing at his brother.

Prussia looked over France at England and shrugged, "What about him?" He asked his red eyes back at France.

France shrugged, "It seems like something's wrong with him, I'm his brother, I know." He said, his usual pervertedness gone.

Gilbert smirked, "He doesn't look like a virgin anymore." He laughed slightly.

France looked back at England, "He doesn't!" he exclaimed as Gilbert nodded triumphantly. He sat back at his desk and stared at England, wondering what he was thinking about.

_Why is that Croissant bastard staring at me? _He asked himself, looking at France from the corner of his eye. He glanced down at what he was drawing and it was a chibi of Alfred. He shrieked slightly and crumpled the paper as fast as he could, hoping no one saw it.

"What's wrong Arthur?" Mrs. Allen asked seeming panicked.

He looked up at her, "Uh, nothing, I'm fine." He said, faking a smile, his face a slight red. He sighed looking at the clock overhead, he had Theatre next. _In about, three, two, one… _The bell rang. Arthur stood up without a word and headed to his class. He fast walked through the hallway; no one said a word to him. His eyes grew wide with worry as he realized Alfred was in his class. He sighed, _Just ignore him, you'll be fine. _He said to himself, _Besides, we're only playing games today, we usually only take volunteers anyway. _He knew they wouldn't be working on anything big. But… he wasn't the only teacher in this class.

France smiled as he walked into the room, "Bonjour, Angleterre~!" France chimed when England walked by. In the room there was a stage that was a few feet high and chairs in front of it for the students to sit in. The stage had red curtains on the side and two stairways on the left and right for entering the stage.

England rolled his eyes, _Oh great, he's teaching today. _He sighed, and shrugged it off. Everyone else flooded into the room. England was usually the first one in any class after all. He sighed as he noticed Alfred wasn't there. _Good. _He thought crossing his arms with a smile.

"Okay, today we are going to play improv games." France announced, the class cheered, "We have a new game that I'd like to teach you." He said as the students quieted down, "ABC improv. So the main point is each line of dialogue has to start with the letter in the alphabet. So if we started on A, the speech would have to start on the letter A, then the other person responds with something that starts with B and so on." France explained. "Who would like to start us off?" He asked glancing around the room, "Okay, England. You've played this before, you start us off."

England's eyes lit up in shock, "Fine." He stated and walked up the right side stairs and stood on stage.

As this was happening, America rushed into the room panting. He had a note in his hand. He was wearing his brown bomber jacket over his school uniform. He handed the note to France as panted as he spoke, "I had to talk to Mr. Greene about my Saturday detention." He said through pants.

France nodded, "Okay, we're playing ABC Improv-"

"Oh! I love that game!" He exclaimed sitting down in the front row of chairs.

France sighed crumpling the note. _I see why he got detention. _The thought to himself, "Okay, England, choose who you want to come up." France called.

England nodded, blushing slightly as he saw Alfred. No one's hand went up as France suggested it. He even received a cold glare from Spain. America was the only one, he sat there screaming, "OOH! Ooh! Me!" and waving his hand around frantically.

England sighed, placing one hand on his forehead and the other to his elbow to support it. "Fine, Alfred."

"Yay!" He exclaimed and leapt onto the stage in a single bound.

England rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, looking at France, "Okay, You're at a concert." He said, "And just remember, if you can't think of anything, I'll help you. England, you star us off. Your letter is Z. Okay, lights up!" He called, to signal the begging of a scene.

England thought for a few seconds, then got into his 'I can do anything without looking stupid' mood. "ZOMG! I love this band!" He exclaimed.

Alfred sighed placing his hands on his hips, "Are you kidding me? They suck."

"But, they're such good singers!"He exclaimed, in a somewhat cutesy tone.

"Can you hear?" America asked.

"Don't be a jerk!" England yelled thrusting his hands down by his side.

"Enough, I hate arguments."America said looking away from England.

"For what reason are you here then?" He asked placing his hands on his hips again.

"God, I'm here for you." He said, it seemed so obvious.

"Huh? Why?" England asked.

America paused abruptly, unknowing of what to say. He looked at France to help. "I love you." France whispered.

"I love you!" America yelled suddenly, scaring England slightly.

England's green eyes grew wide and he could hear his heart pounding in his chest. "J-just what are you saying?" He asked.

France whispered, "Kiss me."

"Kiss me." America said, without doubt.

England's eye grew wider and his face a darker shade of red. His mind attempted to think of something to say. Something that started with an L. He looked back into America's blue eyes, "Love to." He inwardly beat the crap out of himself after he realized what he had said.

America leaned forward and as their lips touched the audience began to clap wildly. England pulled away not long after, his face completely red. But it faded as America hopped off of the stage. England looked over at France, who was smirking contently at him. The embarrassment on his face had been replaced with anger.

He turned towards the students, "Okay class, quick theatre combat lesson." He sighed looking at France, "How about you come up here to help me demonstrate." He said pointing to the stage to his side.

France walked up to England and stood in front of him. "So, I'm going to show you a crotch kick." He said, a smile forming on his face. "Are you ready?" He asked France seemingly happy.

France gulped with a worried look on his face as England's foot came in between his legs and hit him. Hard. France fell to the stage floor in pain.

England smiled looking out at the students, "See how real that looked?" He asked happily.

"That was real." France groaned from the ground.

"Oh! It was?" He asked acting like he didn't know, "I'm sorry, I guess that's what not to do!" He exclaimed helping France up. He walked back over to France's chair with him, "Don't screw with me." He whispered to France in a creepy tone.

France gulped and sat down worriedly.

The rest of class went as usual with random comedy acts from freeze. As England left the classroom America followed behind him. England glared ahead as he noticed the blonde, "What?" He asked America, blushing slightly.

"Is something wrong?" America asked looking concernedly at England.

England turned around and glared into America's innocent eyes, "You know damn well what's wrong." He said trying not to yell.

America looked sadly away from England's face and continued to walk down the hallway. After America was well away England walked to his next class, History. He arrived in the classroom, Mr. Greene was his teacher. He sat down in the front of the class silently.


	3. Chapter 3 Talk

"Okay class, get out your spirals and take notes." He yelled monotonously, he had short brown hair and a muscular build. He was dressed much like one of the coaches and he talked like one too. "Okay, In 1776-"

England's eyes shot open and he slowly leaned back in his chair. That was the year America had declared independance. He remembered it clearly, the dead feeling he's had inside ever since that day.

"Oh, Kirkland. You don't mind do you?" Mr. Greene asked, the way he talked it didn't sound like a question.

England looked up surprised, "Oh, no." He said and looked back down at the floor.

"Okay then, 1776 July 4th. American Independence Day. When America became free from Great Brittan. But technically that wasn't the day America gained his independance-" Mr. Greene continued on.

England's blonde hair covered his face; he felt tears coming to his eyes. _Why does it matter so much? _He asked himself in thought. _Because you love him. _His mind promptly answered. A shocked look formed on his face as realization struck him. England listened to the rest of the lecture on the worst day of his life, but had no need to take any notes. He was there after all.

His next class was Science and as he walked to it France caught up to him. France put his arm around England's shoulder causing him to blush. England sighed wiping the tears from his face. France looked confused, "What's wrong?" He asked looking England in the eyes.

England looked away, "Nothing, I just got something in my eye." He said.

America walked by the two in the hallway, whistling the Mc. Donald's theme. His next class was History. England watched him walk along and France noticed.

"Something about America." He stated looking at England as they continued walking to Science. "Was it the theatre thing?" He asked with a slight smirk.

England's eyes lit up, he found a loophole, "Yeah, people made fun of me." He whispered to France, blushing slightly. He was a good actor.

France looked concernedly down at England, "I'm sorry." He said holding England's shoulders. He leaned over and kissed England.

America ran over holding England's Eraser in his hand, "Hey England! You left this in-" He paused seeing France kissing a shocked looking England on the lips. He glared at France and threw the British flag eraser at the French man.

The Eraser bounced off the side of France's head. He fell over, America was strong. England looked over at America, just before he ran away. England sighed, picking up his eraser. He helped up France, whose hand was buried in his blonde locks and rubbing the side of his head. "He's got a good arm." He said with a carefree chuckle.

England walked to Science with France. As they arrived in the room Canada was sitting silently at his desk. He blushed seeing England, he looked over at France who was walking with him. _Should I tell England that I saw him and America? _He asked himself. _No! They'll hurt me. Maybe France would…. _Canada blushed; he had walked into England's house while England and America were there. _Sometimes I wish people could see me…. _He sighed.

France smirked as he saw Canada, "Why are you blushing? I know I'm gorgeous and all, but you don't have to blush every time you see me." France laughed slightly.

England looked confused, "Who are you talking to? He looks familiar…." England trailed off looking at the dirty blonde haired boy.

France rolled his eyes, "This is Canada," He said, "I've introduced you to him many times…" He mumbled.

England hurried to his seat, knowing the bell would ring soon. After Science England had one of his favorite classes: Art. Although France was the teacher it was still a nice class. As he arrived in the art room his picked up a Black sketchbook filled with beautiful drawings. His of course. He sat down at one of the elongated fake wooden looking tables. The walls of the art rooms were lined with sculptures and Paper-Mache projects. The shelves were organized but still covered with paints, glazes, and paintbrushes.

France stood in front of the class wearing a black barrette and a smock over his uniform. He clapped his hands together to get the student's attention, "Okay class, I want you to draw some things in your life that are very important. Don't be modest~! They can be people, objects, food… Anything~!" He chimed, "Okay, draw~!" he exclaimed and walked back to his desk to draw.

England sighed. _Well I guess the queen… _He said and began drawing her, as he finished he was trying to think of something or someone else, _Alfred. _He thought, and drew him without thinking about it. He looked down at his art. The queen was smiling at him; she looked so life-like. Alfred, his dorky grin made England smile. France walked by behind England glancing nonchalantly over his shoulder. A mischievous look formed on his face, _I knew it. _He thought with a smirk and continued walking.

Spain raised his hand, "France! I need a reference; can I go sit over there?" He asked pointing to the table where the Italy's were sitting.

France laughed slightly, "Sure," He replied patting Spain lightly on the back as he skipped over to Romano and Feliciano. France heard a grumble from Romano and a "Ve" from Feliciano as Spain appeared. Romano glared up at France, "I hate you so much." He said. _First he puts me next to mi Fretello and now this idiot. His seating is favoritism. _Romano thought glaring at France. _Why am I even in Art?_

"Okay class! Time to turn in your sketchbooks!" France called as class ended.

England quickly handed France his sketchbook, not looking into his brother's blue eyes. He walked out of the room, a smile formed on his face. _Ah, Lunch. Finally, I didn't eat breakfast. _He thought to himself. He walked into the Lunchroom. It was a large room next to the MPR, there were giant windows up to the ceiling in the back next to the lunch lines. England set his binder down at his table and went to get some food. There were different lunch lines for different kinds of foods. There were lines for Italian, Spanish, French, Chinese food and many more.

England walked out of the line and paused abruptly. America was in the seat next to where England had put his stuff. England sighed, that was where America usually sat. _Don't make a big deal out of this. _He told himself. He sat down next to America and crossed his legs, taking a sip of tea. He had a small plate of Scones and Crumpets that he set down in front of himself.

America looked sadly at England; everyone else had left to get their lunches. "England?" He asked cutely.

England blushed slightly and looked at America, placing his British flag tea cup down on its plate, "Yes?" He asked.

"Why were you kissing France in the hallway?" He asked his usually innocent eyes in a glare.

England gulped slightly, "I wasn't kissing him, he kissed me!" England yelled slightly.

Romano smiled a piece of Pizza sticking out of his mouth, "This is the gayest soap opera ever." He said with his mouth full. He had been watching them from a different table. He had nothing better to do, no one else was at his table yet.

England glared at him, "Don't talk with your mouth full! And eavesdropping isn't polite either."

Romano glared at England, "I'll talk when I want and how I want, tea bastard." He said his mouth still full of Pizza. He turned back around and continued eating.

America looked torn, "Are you sure? It looked like you two both wanted it." America's expression was one of worry.

Romano spat out some of his Tomato juice and started laughing.

England blushed, _He really does care. _He thought looking into America's eyes. He ignored the fact that Romano was still listening to their conversation, in fact he didn't even notice. "He was just comforting me because… In History-"

"I know." America looked away sadly.

_He's sad about the war too? But… _England sighed and continued to eat his scones. "Where's your lunch?" He asked.

America smiled holding out his arms, "Here!" He exclaimed as Lithuania dropped a Mc. Donald's bag into his hands. "Thanks Lithy~!" He exclaimed pulling out the hamburgers and eating them quickly.

Lithuania blushed, "You're welcome America," Lithuania said and sat on the other side of America.

England glared out of the corner of his eye at Lithuania. _What… What am I doing? _He asked himself. _Am I jealous of Lithuania? _He thought. _Why? He's just like America's little slave. _England rolled his eyes with a sigh.

The lunch table filled in quickly with foreign foods from all different countries. Soon after, Lunch was over and England was in English.


	4. Chapter 4 Pain

He sat down at his desk; he glanced up at the chalkboard. _Another project?_ He asked himself. He sighed and glanced up when Ms. Williamson started talking.

"Today class, we are starting a project on William Shakespeare." Ms. Williamson's voice was smooth and calm as the class groaned. She slightly laughed, "He was a very important man and no one knows much about him. Do as much research as you can, but choose a narrow topic!" She chimed.

England smiled, _Good, Shakespeare was an amazing poet. And English of course! _England thought, triumphantly.

"Okay class, let's head on over to the library." Ms. Williamson said. The class arose and rushed to the door.

England walked down the hall glancing straight ahead. The library was one of his favorite places. Quiet, calming, books, it was great. England pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the Library and sighed as he took in the atmosphere. After being greeted by the librarian he walked immediately over to the poetry section. He scanned the large bookshelf for William Shakespeare. "Ah, there." He said, reaching up and grabbing a book quickly.

He fled to the back of the Library after he found his book. It looked quite old; the cover was faded and hardback. The pages inside were yellowed and torn around the edges. _I suppose it was quite a while since Shakespeare died. _England thought to himself, he glanced up to see his window. There was a large window with a seat in it. The seat had pillows and long drapes from the window. England sighed and sat down on the window seat. He opened the book and started taking notes.

By the time the class was over, England had written a decent amount of information down. A page and the back. He sighed; he knew what Ms. Williamson meant by "do as much research as you can." Kill yourself trying to finish. He stood up closing the book, he walked over to the Librarian and put the book on the checkout counter, "Excuse me? Can I please check this out?" He asked.

She turned around, "Oh, sorry Arthur. Since everyone has the same project we're not allowing students to check out Shakespeare books." The librarian explained.

Arthur nodded and left the library. He sighed, _Damn it, Gym. _He thought as he walked down the staircase. Alfred snuck up behind England and hugged him, "Hiya Iggy!" He exclaimed.

England blushed, "Alfred! Get off of me!" He was about to yell then caught himself. He shoved America's arms from his neck and walked faster down the hall.

Alfred appeared next to him again, "You'll have to walk faster than that to get away from me. I'm an Athlete!" He exclaimed with a dumb smile.

England sighed, "Fine, but if you look at me in the locker room, I'll kill you." He whispered, blushing harder.

America just laughed as they walked into Gym. _Whatever, I've already seen him naked. _He thought. The Gymnasium was large; the floors smelled of wax and were shining. There was a variety of different colored lines on the floor, and England had no idea what they were for. England embarrassedly walked by the coaches' offices and into the locker room. The floors were a pretty, clean tile with bricks for the wall. England walked over to his locker and opened it promptly, luckily his locker was far away from Alfred's since he was in athletics and England was in regular gym.

England wasn't the most athletic person, so he didn't want to do athletics. He then began to get dressed for gym. England pulled a yellow shirt over his head; it had the school emblem on the front left side and "A. Kirkland" on the back. He pulled on his gym pants, which were dark blue. He tied his shoe laces, his shoes were black cleats. The only extremely athletic sport that he was into was Football. (soccer)

England stood up and walked out of the locker room. He was half upset that he didn't look back at Alfred. He sighed and continued out to the gymnasium.

When Coach Palmer walked up to their class and looked over them he yelled, "Okay, no one's missing."

_Oh, God. I hope we're not doing anything that requires moving. My ass still hurts… _England thought slightly blushing.

Coach Palmer wasn't the type to let people get out of class for anything. He cleared his throat, "Today we're running the mile. Go!" He yelled pointing to the double doors by the locker rooms.

The class stood up and started walking to the doors. _Shit. _He thought getting up with a slight moan. He winced and started walking along with the class. He glanced at the pool; which was clean and looked beautiful under the hot sun. England held his arm over his face, shading it slightly. When he stepped onto the black track, the heat became even more intense. _Damn, the dark track attracts more heat. _He thought wincing slightly. The class lined up at the starting line and when coach gave the signal to run, they did. England started to run but paused. It hurt like hell. He winced and tried to run again, but it still hurt. He stopped in front of Coach Palmer, "Um, Sir, I'm not feeling well-"

"Man up!" Coach yelled. "I'm not taking pity on you just because you're on the student council."

England sighed and kept running, _Damn, I was hoping he would! _His mind screamed, he swallowed as the pain increased. He stopped running, unaware that he was so far behind everyone else. He panted slightly; the heat was making him feel even more fatigued.

"Keep running Kirkland! You can't be tired already!" Coach yelled.

Arthur rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. He started to run again. He glanced to the middle of the track, there was a field and the athletics people were playing American Football. He tried to look for Alfred, but decided that he needed to focus on running. He continued on, trying not to stop, but his throat was dry and he felt like throwing up. He looked up at the sky as sweat dripped off his face. _How bloody hot is it today? _He asked wincing as he finished his first lap. He was in the middle of his second lap when he started feeling faint. His eyes were losing focus and the ground came up to meet him. Everything was black.

Alfred threw the ball into the ground on the end field and glanced up at the track to see if England was watching. His blue eyes became shocked. "Arthur!" He yelled rushing over to the track.

America's coach stopped him suddenly, "Jones! Where are you going?" Coach Cotton asked in a yell.

America pointed at England, passed out on the track.

"Coach Palmer can take care of that," His coach said.

Alfred glared at Coach Cotton and ran past him. When he kneeled by England's side he jumped back up. The track was hot. He quickly picked England up. The right side of his face was red, probably burned by the track. Alfred rushed into the school ignoring Coach Cotton's yelling. England's knees were bleeding from collapsing while he was in mid run.

America opened the door to the nurse's office, and quickly placed England down on one of the beds. The blood was quickly leaking off of his knee and onto the white bed sheets. Nurse Jill looked shocked, her red curly hair bounced as she rushed over to Arthur. "Should I call the hospital?" She asked in a hurried tone.

Alfred shook his head, "No, I can take care of him. Go tell the coaches to dismiss us from class, please." He said, using his charming grin to convince her.

She nodded and rushed to the gymnasium.

Alfred got some tweezers, rubbing alcohol, big band aids, and an ice pack. He placed the ice pack on England's burnt face and picked up the tweezers. He picked the little pieces of track out of England's knee wounds and poured some rubbing alcohol onto a cotton ball and swabbed the gash. He did the same to the other knee and the backs of his fore arms. He sat back after putting the equipment back in its correct places. He looked worriedly down at Arthur he placed his fingers in the side of England's neck.

He leaned back some of his worries fleeing. _Thank god, he's still breathing. _Alfred let out a huge sigh of relief.


	5. Chapter 5 Recovoring

England opened his eyes, they were a luxurious shade of green. Alfred looked quickly over at England from where he sat, "Are you alright?" he asked worriedly.

Arthur placed a pale hand on his forehead and closed his eyes once again, "What happened?" He asked, his voice crackled slightly.

Alfred let out a heavy sigh, "You were running the track and… passed out I guess." He replied, though that explanation was not as thorough as England wanted it to be. There were a lot of holes in that theory, like how did he get all the cuts? He knew he collapsed but they shouldn't be as bad as they are…

His green eyes opened and met Alfred's. He was smiling, that smile that made England smile no matter what. He felt the corners of his mouth turn up without his consent.

"Aw…" America cooed.

Blushing and looking away, Arthur asked, "What?" Although he was pretty sure he already knew what America was talking about.

"You smiled," Alfred paused, "I remember when you used to smile all the time." Alfred's blue eyes wandered off in a dreamy state.

Arthur sighed, his black, black heart hated to remember those times because it always brought back the war memories. Those blue eyes that he loved so much had become pits of fury that hated him to his very core. Suddenly, Arthur's eyes teared up.

That snapped Alfred back to reality, "Oh! England, I'm sorry! I mean, I like you more now! It's just- you never smile anymore." Alfred was flailing his arms, trying to express to England what he was talking about.

"Well whose fault is that?" He shot back viscously.

Alfred sat back in shock. He blinked; England didn't want to look at him. They both knew that they had touched a nerve. The two sat in silence for a few minutes, until England broke it, "Shouldn't we get back to class?"

Alfred stood up, "_I _should get back to class, you're hurt still." He reminded him.

Arthur glared, he was once again looking at America, "I'm fine," He said, sitting up suddenly. A bit too suddenly, England's head began to hurt. He stumbled out of the hospital bed and attempted to gain his balance. Attempt failed, his leg that had gotten skinned had always been fragile, but just gave out. England found himself falling towards the ground quickly, his arms flailed around attempting to find something to grab onto. Then, everything stopped. He found his arms on something hard and warm.

He opened his eyes that had been closed because of fear. Alfred had caught him. England was shocked, he stared at Alfred. "You okay there?" America asked with a smile.

England looked away blushing, "I'm fine," He replied.

America laughed cutely, "Here, I'll put you back on the bed, you should rest." He explained walking over to the beds.

"No!" England cried, just as he was going to be put down.

"Nurse Jill~" Romano purred in a flirtatious tone, leaning against the door frame. "What the hell are you doing?" He yelled standing up straight suddenly.

America's back was facing Romano, so that situation had to look pretty awkward. Especially considering England's legs were around his waist and his arms around his neck. "Uh…" America stuttered slightly.

"Never mind, I don't even want to know. Where's Nurse Jill?" He asked angrily.

Nurse Jill rushed in her curls bouncing, "I'm right here!" She said, her voice soft and sincere. "Alfred and Arthur, the coaches said to hurry back to the gymnasium." She said sitting down at her computer, seemingly exhausted.

Romano walked over to her and curled some of her hair around his finger with a smirk. Nurse blushed slightly and England rolled his eyes at the Italian. "See Alfred, I have to go back to gym." He sneered.

Alfred looked concerned, "But you can't walk very well!" He cried.

"Thanks," England said rolling his eyes. "Just carry me then!" He yelled frustratedly.

America smiled, "M'kay~!" He chimed and began to walk out of the Nurse's office. Although England was going to ask Romano why he wasn't in gym, he knew he was probably skipping so he could flirt with the Nurse.

England sighed as he was carried down more and more corridors. He couldn't move positions because of Alfred's tight grip on each of his legs. His face was bright red by the time they reached the gym. He tried to act like he was asleep so people would think it was less awkward, but it didn't work. They didn't care if he was asleep or not, the people in the gym still laughed.

Gym was over by the time they got back and the two went directly to the locker room. Alfred blushed as he realized that they had a problem, "How are we going to dress you?" He asked England, who was resting his head on America's shoulder.

His eyes opened suddenly and if his face could get any redder it did. "I can do it!" He yelled stubbornly.

Alfred sighed at England, "But you-" America was interrupted by the bell. Everyone fled the locker rooms to hurry to their next classes.

England sighed, "Why…." He glared at where the bell sound came from. "Put me down." He instructed urgently, pushing on Alfred's shoulders to get away.

Alfred sighed, he knew he couldn't win, and Arthur was being cute. He placed England's feet flat on the ground. "I could help you, it wouldn't really matter…" He trailed off, removing his shirt, "I mean, I've already seen you naked." He purred with a smirk.

England limped away from Alfred as he spoke. He caught the last thing and blushed. "You're so bloody creepy." He shivered unlocking his locker. He took out his clothes and began putting them on. _Wait, _he thought, _what class do I have next? Did I hit my head? _He asked himself. He didn't want to believe he had a concussion, so he ignored it and continued dressing. He finished as quickly as he could, leaning up against the lockers for support. He turned his head and saw Alfred smiling at him, "I'll help you get to class-"

"No! How long have you been there!" He asked his face turning red.

Alfred jumped at his sudden yelling, then giggled, "A while," He smirked with a wink, "Now, come on! The late bell's gonna ring soon." He said putting an arm around England.

England blushed, he knew that Alfred was just trying to help him walk, but it was very awkward…


End file.
